Three Times Alak Tarr Hid Christie McCawley From His Parents
by Bassair
Summary: ...And One Time She Hid Him From Rafe (Alak/Christie)


~1~

Christie McCawley glanced up at Alak Tarr as they roamed the market together. Somehow in the past two weeks they'd started dating, she'd already begun to fall for him, heart skipping beats when they were together.

They'd kept their public time subtle, keeping close but not _too_ close and never touching, occasionally exchanging words, and their fathers had yet to find out what they'd been doing.

"These look delicious," she commented under her breath as they found a fruit stand.

"Let me buy you something nice?" he said and shot her a smile.

She blushed happily and nodded, selecting a ripe plum and biting into it as Alak paid the scrip for it. They wandered a little further, past a stand of silky scarves and shawls, and then out of nowhere Datak Tarr came around the corner, Stahma Tarr on his arm.

And then Alak's hand was shoving Christie's chest and she was squealing her way into the scarves and shawls and falling on her ass.

She sat there on the floor, covered in silk, and squinted, blinking a few times at the tiny slits of Alak's blue hair she could see through the scarves and the flashes of the white hair and skin of his father, and listening to the idle conversation they made, and then when she was sure Datak and Stahma were gone, she got to her feet and moved out, a white scarf draped over her head.

Alak blinked at her and snickered. "You look like an old Earth bride," he informed her.

"For that, you're buying me the scarf," she replied and tossed it at him.

* * *

~2~

"They're not here," he said. "I promise!"

She'd always wanted to see inside the Tarr residence, wanted to see the pure white walls and the way they'd decorated. She'd seen the inside of a couple of Castithan homes, but never the Tarrs. "As long as you're sure," she said, trailing after him, staring around. She felt dark, out of place, her hair the wrong colour and even her skin too dark. It was a strange feeling.

He reached back and caught her hand, lacing their fingers, and suddenly she didn't feel so dark anymore. She felt like she fitted, maybe not in with the Castithan, or even the Tarrs, or in with the white walls and décor, but in with Alak. In with her boyfriend.

She fitted with him.

She followed him around the house, eyes wide with awe as she took in every last corner, and then he lead her to the front door to say goodnight, tugging her close and pressing his gentle lips against hers. "I'll see you soon," she said happily, not moving away from his kiss.

"Tomorrow, at the market," he suggested and kissed her again.

The door opened.

Christie suddenly found herself in a closet.

She blinked a few times, wondering how Alak had shoved her in there without sending her to her ass this time and pressed her hands to the door, trying to get out.

_Locked_.

She idly considered all the ways her father and brothers would kill Alak Tarr for this, then decided to shelve that thought.

The door opened. "How much trouble am I in?"

She scowled at him. "A kiss will fix it all," she said. "_This time_."

He tugged her close and kissed her again.

* * *

~3~

"...and coming up next is an old Earth classic favourite of mine, Hotel California," said Alak and Christie looked across, waiting until the dial of the microphone was turned all the way down to climb into his lap and kiss him.

He grinned and kissed her back, wrapping his arms around him. She liked this, making out while the songs played and talking while he chose the next record. She liked watching him work and liked being close to him, even if she didn't much like how high the arch was.

"Mmmfle, hang on!" He tucked his chin over her shoulder, snagged the microphone, turned it up and informed the world, "And if you like _The Eagles_," he said and she kissed the side of his neck, his voice faltering a little, "t-there's another of theirs coming right up... n-now!" He turned it on without preamble and then tickled her. "I'm _working!_ Tease!"

She giggled hysterically and pawed at him. "It's your fault! You didn't move me! It was there for the ta-A-AKING!" Her voice took on a shrill note as he caught her armpits just right and she started screaming under his tickling.

"Shtako!" he decided. "You'd do it anyway!"

She fell out of his lap and landed on her back on the floor, peering up at him, hair somehow both splayed out around her head and all across her face and eyes lit up with happiness. "Yep! I would!"

"Right, that's it, I'm coming down there!" he decided.

At which point the door opened.

Alak made a noise of panic and reached down, feet either side of Christie's hips, to yank her ankles and slide her smoothly straight under his chair and under the desk.

She squealed at her new job as a human skateboard and disappeared.

She scooted into a sitting position and eyed Alak's knees, then his pants as his parents spoke to him.

Then she reached out and poked.

_SMACK!_ His knee impacted the desk with such force she was surprised he didn't crack either the desk or his kneecap, and then he reached out under the desk and bobbed her back down like an apple.

She pouted at his hand, tilted her head back and bit his wrist.

_SMACK!_

"Are you feeling quite well?"

She buried her face in her sleeves to keep her laughter silent and shook with hysterics.

A few minutes later, Alak reached under the desk and snaffled her out and into his arms. "You're dead," he informed her. "Castithian assassin is coming to your house for that tonight."

"Mmm, I don't think so!" she said, nose wrinkling up. "I have a big tough boyfriend who would never allow that."

He growled a little and kissed her.

* * *

~&1~

Alak pressed a kiss to Christie's forehead and tucked her close to his chest, her soft warm skin against his, the covers of her bed over their bodies and her breath gentle against his neck.

"Are you asleep?"

"If I was, I wouldn't be now." She tilted her face up and smiled at him sleepily.

He kissed her lips for that and smiled back at her. "I love you."

"I love you too," she murmured.

"Will you still love me if I leave the nest to use the bathroom?" he whined.

She pulled a face. "Maybe, if you're lucky. Do you know where it is?"

He shook his head. "Show me?"

She slipped out of bed and he took the opportunity to look her over before he got out himself. She pulled on a dressing gown and he slipped on a pair of underpants and the two of them padded out into the darkened and silent hallway together. "Here." She pointed at the bathroom door.

"Okay, wait here," he told her and disappeared inside.

She squinted at the door in confusion then decided he was probably scared of her father, which was silly since he was at the mines overnight.

The door opened a moment later and she squealed as he snagged her around the waist and pulled her inside the bathroom. "Hi." He pushed her up against the towel rack and kissed her, surprisingly gentle.

She melted into the kiss and wrapped around him, eyelids fluttering closed. "Mmm... hi," she breathed when he drew away. "What was that?"

"I don't know," he said, "I just thought-"

_BANG!_

They both froze.

"Is that my-

"-your dad?!"

She skidded away from Alak and to the bathroom door, in time for Rafe McCawley to come up the stairs and pause.

"You're home early," she squeaked.

"Long story," Rafe grumbled. "Need a shower and I'll go back tomorrow. Are you done?" He gestured at the bathroom.

Her heart did somersaults in her chest. "In one second!" She disappeared back inside the bathroom.

Alak somehow managed to look paler than he'd ever looked.

She yanked the lid off the laundry basket and shoved him at it. "In, in!" she hissed.

He clambered in with a pathetic whimper and she shoved the lid back on then skidded out of the bathroom. "All yours!"

"All right. Good night." Rafe kissed her hair and nudged her and she wandered into her bedroom, leaving the door open a crack.

She sat on her bed.

She didn't move.

She listened.

She panicked.

She considered all the ways you could kill a young man in a bathroom.

She panicked more.

And then Alak walked into her bedroom with a dirty sock on his head. "That laundry was not just yours," he informed her.

She whimpered at him. "Are you a ghost?"

"I think it's time we tell our families." He flicked the sock at her.

She let it flop against her nose and forehead. "You do that, _I'm_ going to climb into the laundry basket. It somehow seems like the safer option."

He whined his agreement and neither of them moved.


End file.
